


A Bunch Of Daffodils

by iggycakes



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: "And They Were Both Bottoms", Everything Is The Same Yet Not, It's cheesy, M/M, Male Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Meet-Cute, Multi, Please Don't Think About This Too Hard, The Modern AU Nobody Asked For, This is so AU it might as well be Original Fiction but Here We Are, Unknown Mutual Pinning, WoL and Scions are in a Band I guess?, Write Me Like One Of Your BL Manga, disgustingly cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-24 20:37:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20364736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iggycakes/pseuds/iggycakes
Summary: G’raha is an ordinary office worker who has fallen hopelessly and desperately in love with the famous Warrior of Light.(Boy Kitty!WoL. Read the Tags. Don't think there's going to be any explicit Shadowbringers spoilers because AU, but lbr, if you're reading this, you've already finished SHB lmao.)





	1. Serendipity

**Author's Note:**

> This is incredibly self-indulgent, probably more self-indulgent than anything I’ve written before. Especially considering the Warrior of Light is an OC I don’t have even have in-game, haha. I just wanted to write about boy kitties being hopeless for each other. This is only going to be 2 chapters, but I'll write more if I feel like it. (Also take it completely un-edited because I've been functioning on my last braincells since finishing SHB and all these fics are just coming out of my ass)
> 
> Thanks and enjoy!

It was an accident.

A likely, well-worn excuse. But it was also the truth. Not that anyone would believe him if he ever had to admit it. G’raha sincerely and truly didn’t mean for this to happen. He had no ill intentions. An opportunity merely offered itself up to him and he took it. He took it because he had nothing to lose and what little he gained out of it brought him immense happiness. He was happy with this. Satisfied, even. It’s not like what he was doing hurt anybody. It didn’t hurt to  _ look  _ after all! And all he was doing was looking. Just looking, watching, observing. Secretly, from afar. So, the object of his affections would never notice. He might  _ die  _ if he ever noticed. How could he possibly live this shame down? If he found out, that would be it. The end of everything. And it would’ve been great while it lasted.

Yep, even though, this was all a total and  _ complete  _ accident.

G’raha visited this cafe on a whim several months ago. The place had just opened and it was tucked away in an alleyway, far from the main street. It was small, cozy, intimate. They served great coffee and had amazing pastries. It was ideal. It was near work. Of course he’d come by again, you know? He’d made a habit of treating himself to their cakes whenever he had a rough time at work, or whenever he wanted to celebrate the little victories of life. It was a personal thing. Truly.

Until, one day, G’raha encountered  _ him.  _

He recognized him immediately despite the disguise. He always came in wearing a hat and sunglasses, as if that helped hide his identity at all. It was obvious the store clerks recognized him as well. Who wouldn’t? But them, like G’raha, feigned ignorance. Someone as famous as the Warrior of Light deserved some peace and quiet occasionally. And if this was the place he came to relax, who were they to take that away from him? 

He came every Friday, at lunch. He sat at the same table, far from the window, near the back wall. He ordered the same thing every time. A cappuccino and a millefeuille. And he always left at exactly 1:15PM on the dot. 

G’raha always arrived a little bit earlier, also sitting at the same table every week. On the far side of the cafe, a few tables away from where the Warrior of Light would sit, but at just the right angle that he could watch him without it seeming like it was creepy. Gods. That’s what he told himself at least, eating his cake and drinking his tea. It’s not like he was here  _ just  _ to stalk him. He started coming to this cafe first. It was a routine he had already established.

It  _ just  _ so happened that  _ he  _ started coming here as well. It was an accident. It was a coincidence.

Occasionally, G’raha liked to think it might be  _ fate.  _

Fate was giving him a chance. A chance to meet his idol. A chance to talk to him. To tell him how much he means to him. To let him know that his existence saved his life. This was it. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. And, every week, he would let it slip away.

G’raha would watch him come in, order his lunch, eat it quietly while doing some work on the side. An hour later, he’d pay, leaving a hefty tip on the table before heading out. 

From his table, G’raha watched, eating his own meal while reading a book. Or rather, pretending to read a book. He snuck glances between sentences, sometimes spacing out admiring him, only to return to his reading lost and confused. He constantly tried to talk himself up. All he needed to do was get up and say ‘hi’ real quick. Just tell him his piece and leave. It wouldn’t take up much of his time, right? 

Part of G’raha was afraid that if they spoke, the Warrior of Light would never come back. And this weekly joy of his would disappear. He couldn’t bear that. Somehow, watching him from afar forever seemed like… the better scenario.

And he’d been doing so well. 

G’raha didn’t know what came over him. Maybe he didn’t think he was real. That this was all some kind of dream. Maybe he wasn’t thinking at all. 

It was one night after a drinking party. G’raha staggered out of the bar, insisting to his friends and coworkers that he was fine. He wasn’t so drunk he couldn’t hail a cab. It was okay, seriously.

It was not okay. Not a single cab was in sight and his vision had blurred so much he had a hard time keeping his eyes open to use his phone.

“Are you alright?”

His voice was like dew on morning grass, refreshing and bright. Strong arms held him up before G’raha had the time to process he was stumbling in the first place. When he looked up to see who was helping him, all he saw was his face. The Warrior of Light’s face. Expression full of concern for his well-being. Haha, how could that be? They didn’t know each other. What would he even be doing here? This was a hallucination. A drunken vision of his heart’s guiltiest fantasies.

But if this was an illusion, if this wasn’t real, then, did it matter? He could do anything here. He could indulge. How he’d loved to kiss those lips just once. Just once.

So, G’raha did. He kissed him, kissed him hard. Felt those stranger’s lips on his. Unmoving at first, shocked at his unprompted actions. But quickly reciprocating. His breath was wracked with alcohol, but his partner didn’t seem to mind, kissing him back without restraint, the way you only could with a stranger whose feelings were unknown to you. Tongue pushed passed teeth, exploring his mouth. G’raha reached for air, unable to concentrate. He had never kissed like this, let alone  _ been  _ kissed like this.

He didn’t know where he was anymore, what time it was or what was happening. All of that faded away into the mist. As if it didn’t matter.

But it mattered now. 

G’raha couldn’t remember what happened after that. When he woke up, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar apartment. He was naked. His clothes and the clothes of whoever lives here strewn about the floor. His body hurt. His throat was dry and there were marks all over his body. Dark, round marks all over his neck and chest.

The dawning realization came in an instant. G’raha was horrified. He panicked, searching his memory, but finding nothing. He left his work party, he was going home. He kissed someone who looked strangely like the Warrior of Light. No, no. As if it could’ve actually been him. That would be crazy.

He could hear water running. The sound of someone in the shower down the hall. 

G’raha didn’t want to know where he was or whose apartment he was in. He couldn’t. 

Knowing for sure would destroy him.

G’raha climbed out of bed, quickly gathering up his clothes and getting dressed before Mystery Man could get out of the shower. He found his bag, grabbed a piece of scrap paper and wrote a short note.  _ I’m sorry. I have to go. _

He left it on the night table and bolted out of the apartment as the sound of running water stopped.

-0-

What G’raha felt was  _ dread.  _ An immutable, insurmountable amount of dread. He managed to get himself to work and, thankfully, nobody commented on the fact that he was wearing the same suit as yesterday. Maybe no one actually noticed and he was just being paranoid. Either way, it helped. Most of his team were as tired as he was from last night’s party. Did you get home safe after all? They asked. You didn’t answer my texts. We were worried. Sorry, sorry. G’raha brushed it all off, saying he passed out when he got home and then overslept this morning. Not entirely a lie.

As lunch hour approached, he was forced to confront the real possibility of what he had done last night-- that he had drunkenly taken advantage of some kind stranger on the street, said stranger then brought him home and they had sex. On top of that, instead of showing any form of gratitude, G’raha had left his apartment without a word. He didn’t even know that stranger’s name. Only that he had mistaken him for the Warrior of Light.

Was he that obsessed? Was he that smitten that he could kiss anyone as long as they looked like him? Gods, he didn’t know he had it in him to behave this way. How could he go back to the cafe now? Knowing full well the perverse thoughts he’d have watching him? It was too much. It was too embarrassing. He couldn’t believe himself. No amount of alcohol could justify his behavior. He should’ve known better.

G’raha didn’t go to the cafe that week. Or the week after.

The third week, curiosity and hunger got the better of him.

Here he was, a few minutes before noon, sitting at his usual seat, with his usual tea and cake. As the clock struck twelve, the entrance bell rung and in came the face he’d been longing to see. 

Those rugged features, that smooth smile, those bright, sharp eyes. G’raha never got tired of looking at him. His heart sang every time he caught a glimpse. It had only been three weeks since he’d seen that face and it still felt like the first time. He could fall in love again and again. Endlessly, for eternity. 

The Warrior of Light went to his usual seat and, as he did, glanced up momentarily in G’raha’s direction. G’raha quickly paid attention to his book, re-reading the same sentence for the first time as he pretended to stir sugar into his tea. Oh no. Did he get caught looking? Maybe he was staring for too long. Damn. It’s just… It’s been such a long time since he saw him. He couldn’t help himself. 

G’raha waited a few minutes, staring daggers into the page he was reading. He couldn’t focus. It still felt as if the Warrior’s eyes were on him. You’re just being paranoid G’raha. There’s no way he would have noticed you. You’re fine. Relax.

G’raha looked up, catching the Warrior in the corner of his eye.

_ Shit, shit, shit… He was  _ still  _ looking _ ! Why? Why, why, why? Did he finally realize he came here to stalk him? Has he finally been caught? Was it really going to be over so soon? After all this? If only he knew this was the day it would all fall apart, he wouldn’t have skipped the past two weeks out of embarrassment. 

G’raha hid his face behind the book to hide his burning cheeks.

The cafe was small. Small enough that you could hear pretty much everything. The fact that it was so quaint and peaceful was a selling point. It was one of the reasons G’raha loved it so much. But, right now? It was the reason his heart was threatening to crush his ribs and escape his chest.

He heard somebody getting up. The feet of the wooden chair sliding against the wooden floor. The creaks as someone approached him slowly. Footsteps getting louder until they stopped right next to him. G’raha couldn’t look up. 

“Look familiar?”

Morning dew on grass.

The Warrior of Light dropped a familiar looking piece of scrap paper on the table. With the words, in his writing.

G’raha bolted up from his seat. He opened his mouth to speak, but he was shaking so much nothing comprehensible came out. All he could hear was the sound of his heart. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. He was dizzy as the reality came crashing down. As thoughts he ignored came bubbling to the surface, laughing in his face. 

_ You fucked the Warrior of Light and didn’t even remember it. _

No, no, no. Absolutely not.

_ You couldn’t even accept that it was him in the first place. _

It couldn’t be. What were the chances?

_ It was never just admiration. You wanted this from the start. You want to be with him so, so badly. _

He was running out of the cafe, sprinting down the street as fast as possible. Before his thoughts even had the chance to settle, before he was even able to realize he just left without paying. He ran out of breath around the corner, out of sight, and stopped. His breath was coarse, tired. 

What was that? What just happened? Did that really just? Really?

_ He knew. He knew. He knew, he knew, he knew! _

His mind came to a screeching halt. 

It was over. He wouldn’t be able to go back there anymore. He wouldn’t be able to watch him, admire him. Those quiet lunch hours were gone now. 

G’raha bit his shaking lip and felt his eyes fill up with tears. Oh gods, he was so pathetic. After all this, the thing he regretted the most was that he couldn’t even remember what the sex was like. 

“Wait! Wait, please!” 

That voice again.

He straightened up and turned around. 

“I’m sorry,” he caught his breath. “I didn’t mean to scare you off.” 

The Warrior of Light was a few inches taller than. His hat was slipping off his head and he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. They were folding, hanging off his slightly unbuttoned shirt, exposing his collarbone. 

August Fen, the famed Warrior of Light. In the flesh. And G’raha couldn’t run anymore. His feet were planted firmly on the ground. He was frozen, still trying to understand what was happening. Why did he come out after him?

“The bill. You’re right. I need to pay for it,” G’raha mumbled out, taking a step and immediately finding that his legs were not listening to him. 

“The bill? No, it’s fine. I took care of that.”

_ No fucking way! He did that? How could he let him do that?  _

“Gods, no. H-here, please, let me pay you back… I can…”

“Don’t worry about it. More importantly, I…” August trailed off. He stared straight at him for a moment before sheepishly glancing away. “I’d been looking for you. I came to the cafe every day for the past three weeks hoping to see you again…”

“You… What?”

“And I wanted to apologize! I wish I could’ve done it sooner! I’m sorry for teasing you. I just… I had no way of contacting you and when you didn’t come to the cafe all this time… I was upset. I was afraid I’d hurt you and never know why or how.”

“W-w-what?”

“I thought I was okay with the way things were before, but when I saw you stumbling around drunk a few weeks ago. I-I was worried at first, I promise! But then I… I couldn’t help myself. I’ve just liked you for such a long time, so when you kissed me…”

“W-w-w-wh,” G’raha stammered. 

August took his hands in his own and held them up. He squeezed and stared into his eyes, full of motivation. “Will you go out with me?”

G’raha gaped, feeling the weight dissipate from his body as August’s words slowly pierced through the fog in his mind.

“You… you like me?”

August’s face burnt up with embarrassment. He let go of his hands and took a step back. His ears flattened against his head, as if mortified by his own behavior. It was… cute. 

“I-I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m so sorry. I should’ve started with introducing myself or something. Stupid, stupid.” 

G’raha finally laughed, the last of the dread pouring out of him. “Are you kidding? Is there anyone in this city who doesn’t know who you are?”

“I don’t like to assume.” He rubbed the back of his head and stuck his tongue out. “Um… are you going to tell me your name?”

“O-oh. It’s G’raha. G’raha Tia.”

“G’raha…” August repeated.

The sound of his name on the Warrior of Light’s lips was enough to send a shock through his heart once again. And then, he smiled. A big, toothy, unabashedly happy smile.

“It’s really nice to finally meet you, G’raha!”

August stuck a hand out for a handshake, a strangely formal gesture considering their odd situation. But G’raha returned it nonetheless. 

“Um, same to you,” He hesitated for a moment. “August.”

The Warrior of Light beamed at him. 

And G’raha found himself thinking.

_ Ah, what the hell.  _

There would be time to think through all of this later. 


	2. Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then they fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this with exactly half a remaining brain cell. It's so fucking cheesy I may die of literal embarrassment.

It was by chance.

A stroke of luck. Convenient coincidence. It had been months since he wrote a new song. The band was starting to get antsy. They needed something new soon. But August had writer’s block. He had no motivation. He was incredibly uninspired. So, they held less live shows. They took a break. It’s just a mild burnout. He just needed some rest. It will be fine. Except that it wasn’t fine and nothing was getting better. 

The Warrior of Light had a few secrets. One, namely, that he wasn’t nearly as cool as the media made him out to be. In fact, talking to people was hard. He didn’t like crowds. Conversation wasn’t his strong suit. His idea of fun was curling up in bed and watching a movie. But because he looked and sang the way he did, well, people made assumptions. That he was a big flirt. A party boy. That image couldn’t be further away from the truth.

August didn’t know why he sang anymore. He was lost, confused. It wasn’t fun. It had long stopped being fun. And then Alisaie told him ‘maybe you need a new hobby’. Something else to do that wasn’t music. Take his mind off the band completely. He didn’t know how he was supposed to do that. What did he have other than music? The band? He couldn’t name anything. And maybe that was the problem.

So, one day, by chance, August found that cafe, went inside on a whim.

It was the first time he’d fallen in love at first sight. August caught the other miqo’te’s gaze as he walked in. They were looking at him with bright red eyes, thin lips slightly agape. As soon as he realized they had met each other’s gaze, he looked away, a sliver of blush on his pale cheeks as he returned to reading his book. August felt his heart stop. He had seen anyone so beautiful in his life. Red hair tied loosely behind his neck. Soft, gentle features. Eyes that burned with focus. Never in his life did August so desperately wished to be recognized in public. He wanted to know what his voice sounded like. He wanted to know his name. 

But August couldn’t bring himself to talk to him. They were strangers in a cafe. He was reading a book. He was probably just trying to quietly enjoy his lunch. He couldn’t just go up to him and strike up a conversation. What if he thought he was weird? He needed a prompt. An excuse. A reason to talk to him. Anything. Something.

Weeks passed and August couldn’t find anything. He sheepishly came to the cafe every week, on the same day, the same hour. Just to see him. To spend the whole hour mustering up the courage to talk to him and absolutely failing each and every time. 

That night was the night August had finally given up. He was heading home after another unsuccessful practice session. Thancred scolded him again for showing up in the first place. Don’t come in here until you find your reason for singing again! He said. 

August couldn’t remember having a reason. He did it because he could. Because it came naturally to him. Because singing was as easy as the air he breathed. 

That’s when he noticed  _ him _ stumbling out of a bar. Looking totally wasted. His cheeks were as bright red as his eyes and hair. He was smiling, giggling and humming to himself as he staggered down the road.

August was overwhelmed. Why was he out alone? Would he get home safe? It was a safe neighbourhood, but what if he tripped and fell somewhere? 

Before he knew it, August had run over. 

And then  _ he  _ kissed  _ him.  _ Out of  _ nowhere _ !

The rest was history. And mild regret.

August brought him home, which was a struggle if only because his charge kept collapsing into giggles. His legs kept giving in and he’d fall over. When August resorted to carrying him, the other miqo’te would not stop peppering him with gentle kisses. Tugging at his clothes to feel his skin. It took every ounce of August’s restraint not to touch him back. Not to give into his drunken wiles. Even if they were extremely and painfully adorable.

At home, August attempted to get the redhead to sleep. He gave him some water, hoping to sober him up a little, but his good will blew up in his face when the other miqo’te decided he really,  _ really  _ wanted to have sex.

The redhead pinned him down, took his and his own clothes off. And August couldn’t resist. Couldn’t protest. He wanted this too. He was mesmerized by the sight of his bare skin. His gaze lowered on him, red glinting under the faint light.

And then, suddenly, he looked extremely sad. “I really love you,” he mumbled before promptly passing out on top of him.

August had never been so bewildered in his life.

What even was all that? Did he mistake him for someone else? Was that happened? 

He looked so heartbroken, so desperate. It was the kind of I love you filled with unfulfilled, unrequited feelings. He looked like someone who was so sure this other person would never love him back. Never return his affections. 

August tucked him into bed.

“I wish it were me,” August whispered. He pushed some hair out of the redhead’s face and innocently kissed his forehead. “Sleep well.”

He’d ask in the morning. After apologizing and letting him know what happened. He’d introduce himself. He’d finally learn his name. There’d be time for that.

Or so he thought.

The next morning, the miqo’te was gone before he had the chance to even see him. Or say anything. He’d gotten up to shower, hoping to have enough time to make them breakfast afterwards. August barely had time for the first one when he heard his front door open and then slam shut. 

To be honest, he was upset at first. Disappointed. Heartbroken. But it didn’t take him long to realize bolting out of a stranger’s house first thing in the morning after getting blackout drunk the night before… was… well, that was probably what he should’ve expected. 

August didn’t want to give up. He still had a chance. That person would come back to the cafe eventually. He could apologize then. He could explain himself. He just needed a chance. 

It was weeks before he got that chance.

And now he couldn’t be happier.

-0-

August’s phone beeped. He took it out.  _ Tonight at 6?  _ The message read. He smiled to himself, texting back.  _ Mhm. Cant wait 2 see u.  _ Send.  _ Love u <3  _ Send again.

A pause, and then.  _ I love you too. _

He giggled, staring at the message happily before tucking his phone away. 

“Again?” Alisaie chimed in, fixing the strings on her guitar. “You know, I’m really glad you worked things out with this guy, but that smile of yours gets more disgusting by the minute.”

“Will you be introducing him to us any time soon, August? I’m quite curious about this mystery boy you’ve been going on and on about.” Y’shtola was adjusting the amp for her bass.

“As long as it doesn’t get in the way of his writing. You  _ are  _ working on new lyrics now, right?” Thancred was sitting at the drums, leaning back, waiting patiently for everyone else to finish setting up.

August stuck his tongue out sheepishly. He wasn’t quite ready to introduce G’raha to the band yet. They weren’t even dating yet. They were still… working things out. Getting to know each other. Trying to figure out what they were to each other.

They had a lot of misunderstandings to sort through.

“But I think I’m out of my slump. I wrote some things a few nights ago.”

Alisaie jumped. “ _ Really!?  _ Thank the  _ gods.  _ I was starting to really think we were done for.”

Practice went on it as it usually did. Everyone roasted him on the new lyrics, but they were happy enough he had  _ anything  _ at this point. So, the Scions took it and they worked on it for a few hours. Just jamming. Iterating. It felt fresh and new. August hadn’t felt that way about music in a while.

Then, at six, he made his way to the usual. The cafe he and G’raha met at. It was their spot now. 

The miqo’te was waiting outside, leaning on a railing while reading a book. He looked so focused, so into it. It was one of August’s favorite expressions on him. 

August ran up to him, poking his head through the gap in his arms holding up the book to give G’raha a sudden kiss. G’raha nearly jumped out of his own skin, blinking as August pulled away, wrapping his arms around G’raha’s waist. 

The redhead was still holding his book up, behind August’s head. He flushed. “You… you could say ‘hi’ like an ordinary person.”

That was another one of August’s favorite expressions.

He brought his fingers up to brush G’raha’s cheek. “I got excited, I guess. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again if you really didn’t like it.”

“That’s…” His embarrassment slowly turned into a gentle smile. He sighed. “You’re fine.”

“Why are you waiting outside anyway?”

“Well, I was… hoping,” G’raha gaze darted away. “Maybe you’d like to come over?”

August felt his cheeks burn up. “Is that alright?”

“I’m the one inviting you, aren’t I?”

“Then, yes! Of course! I’d love to.”

-0-

G’raha’s apartment was a modest one. It was clean, well-kept and well-loved. Not much stood out to August at first glance, but as they went inside, touches of his character were apparent in the decor. He liked plants. And books. Warm colors and a lot of sunlight. It was his first time here, but something about the apartment just felt like  _ home.  _ Cozy. 

“Should I prepare some tea?” G’raha asked, embarrassed but determined to be a good host. 

August couldn’t believe they were alone together. In  _ his  _ apartment. Because he invited him over. Did G’raha have ulterior motives? Was it just to hang out somewhere else for once? He wanted to know what was going through his mind, but he didn’t know where to start. Being here was overwhelming enough.

“Um, sure.”

G’raha smiled. “Alright, just sit tight then.” He said, before stepping out of the room.

August sat down on the couch and looked around the room curiously, but eventually ran out of things to look at. Having nothing else to do, he figured he’d poke into the kitchen and see if G’raha needed any help carrying things. But when he stepped in a hall, he realized he wasn’t sure where the kitchen was in the first place. As he walked, he noticed the door to (what looked like) G’raha’s bedroom slightly ajar.

…

Just a peek. 

August looked down the opening and accidentally pushed the door. It creaked as it opened, revealing more of the room inside. On the wall inside, right across the door, was a large poster. Of him.

As soon as he saw it, the door shut and a panicked G’raha was standing between him and the entrance. 

“Did you see?”

“I…. did….” August turned red. “You like my music?”

G’raha turned equally as red. “I… Yes.”

“Oh gods, I’m really flattered.” He laughed. “I was worried I was kind of stringing you along into this relationship. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure if you… well, you know.”

“Seems like we both ought to talk more, huh?” G’raha smiled sheepishly. “I was going to tell you eventually. I just didn’t know how to admit it.”

“That you’re a fan? Why… Oh--” The implication suddenly dawned on him. “When you said you knew me, you  _ really  _ meant it.”

“I might have been going to that cafe just to see you…” 

August brought his hand to G’raha chin, forcing the shorter miqo’te to look up at him. “So was I.”

G’raha’s eyes widened at that. It took a moment for him to absorb the information but, when he did, he laughed gently. “We’ve both been fools then, haven’t we?”

“Seems like it.”

-0-

Tea was promptly forgotten and set aside for something infinitely more pressing. 

G’raha eventually relented, letting August into his room. Exposing his humble collection of Warrior of Light goods, the crowning jewel of which was the massive poster he kept next to his bed. He watched August wander around, taking it all in with humility and sincere appreciation. 

“You have all our albums! Even the ones we used to sell when we were busking. I don’t even have most of these anymore.”

“I had to track down some of those, but I bought most of them off you. I was always excited to see you sing.” G’raha sat down on his bed.

“How have I never noticed you before?”

August turned around. He looked at him with earnest regret. It was the kind of look that could send a spear through anyone’s heart. G’raha wondered for a moment how he got this lucky. That all this chance and circumstance could bring the love of his life in his room this very moment. August had no idea just how much he meant to him. No idea. And G’raha was desperate to tell him. To make him understand. But how could he do it? What words could possibly be enough?

“G’raha?” August crawled over towards him. 

His heart was pounding right out of his chest. August was kneeling in front of him and the sight was enough to send him over. He was so close. And they were alone. 

“Your face is so red.”

“So is yours.”

“You’re right.” August chuckled, hands wandering to his thighs, prying them apart as he climbed over. 

G’raha toppled backwards onto the bed. August positioning himself on his hips. It was surreal, seeing him atop him, his shelf with all his albums and various merch in the backdrop. But he had the real thing right 

here. 

This… position though.

“W-w-wait…” G’raha used his elbows to prop himself back up slightly. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I thought you’d be…”

August blinked and the two stared at each other for a moment. Both their faces growing redder by the second. “I’m usually…” August sputtered.

“So am I.”

_ Oh geez. _

They were both useless bottoms.

August looked thoughtful for a moment. G’raha stared, still mildly shocked by the revelation.

“The way you came onto me that first time… I thought for sure…”

“The first time?” G’raha turned bright red again. “Wait, you mean, did I?”

“No, well, nothing actually happened. But you kept trying to take my clothes off and…”

“I— What?”

“You were really forward. It was honestly really hard to hold back, but I did and you still ran off in the morning.”

“...”

“...”

G’raha cleared his throat, pushing himself back up completely so he could sit comfortably on the bed. August moved away as well, sitting right in front of him.

“So, we didn’t…”

He made a motion with his finger. August furtively shook his head. “N-n-no! I could never… We hadn’t even formally met at the time.”

August pressed his lips together. “What now?”

“I mean… I could…” G’raha was relieved. He’d been afraid to bring up that night, afraid to know how he behaved, afraid that he would have forgotten something that should’ve meant a lot to him. He scooted over towards August on his knees. “Whatever you want.”

He said so, softly. Like a loose breath. Slender fingers brushing his chin. August sank under him, still red in the cheeks. 

“I’m flexible.”

August tried his hardest not to laugh. G’raha said it so seriously. He didn’t want to spit at his attempt at being sexy. But it was hard, considering how embarrassed the redhead looked as soon as the words were out of his mouth. 

“Don’t laugh!” G’raha protested, pushing August down under him. “I’m serious.” He dropped his forearms around August’s head and bent down to kiss him.

August laughed into the kiss, chuckling as G’raha wrapped his lips with his. It wasn’t long before his giggles were stifled by the sensuality of their tongues meeting. August groaned and brought his arms up around G’raha waist. He wrapped tightly, bringing their waists together and started grinding. G’raha whined.

“I know you are.” August grinned, biting G’raha’s bottom lip. “Show me what you’ve got then, hm?”

G’raha took the challenge.

The pulled off each other’s clothes. Quickly. Desperately. G’raha pinned August on the side of the bed by the wall, kissing him vigorously and slowly journeying downwards. He peppered August’s neck and chest with kisses. His hands wandered all over, tracing his curves before settling around nipples. He toyed with one, brushing it with his finger and bit around the other. August found himself covering his mouth instinctively, afraid of what he might sound like.

“I want to hear you.” G’raha breathed.

“A-ah… But… I…” August listened, dropping his hands to sides and moaning without restraint. 

G’raha continued, using one hand to stroke August’s shaft and the other one gently pressing around his entrance. “Can I?”

August nodded weakly. And G’raha pressed forward, slowly inserting his finger and prying around inside for August’s sensitive spots. He couldn’t get enough of August’s face. Dripping in need, desperate for more. His hips grinded against him, trying to push G’raha’s fingers further in. But there was only so much fingers could do for him.

“G’raha…” 

His voice soaked. Breathy. Unable to control himself. August quivered under his touch, grabbing onto his shoulders as G’raha pushed him up against the wall and spread his legs. “I-I don’t know if I’m doing this right…”

August groaned. “It doesn’t matter. P-please… just…”

G’raha positioned himself, taking his length and slowly pushing into August. “G-gods…”

“F-fuck… It feels good… A-ah…” August squeaked, holding on more tightly as G’raha started moving. Back and forth. Slowly at first, then quicker. They settled into a rhythm. G’raha hitting all the right spots right when August needed it most. 

“August.. I’m…”

“Please… inside!”

“Hnng,” G’raha came and promptly collapsed on top of August. “I-I’m sorry…”

August brought his hands up to G’raha cheeks. His face was red and sweaty, but he was smiling. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I just... “ He flushed. “Um… That was really good.”

“You don’t have to apologize for feeling good.”

“I suppose… not.”

They lied down and cuddled up to each other on the bed. August tucked G’raha under his chin and wrapped his arms around him. He was giddy. “You were great.”

G’raha sank into August’s chest, embarrassed. “Thanks…”

-0-

_ I've been _

_ thinking 'bout you lately. _

_ Maybe you can save me _

_ from this crazy world we live in. _

“These lyrics are  _ really  _ cheesy, you know.” Thancred noted, taking a sip of water as they took a break between songs.

“They’ve always been cheesy. That’s nothing new.” Y’shtola shrugged.

August laughed nervously. Admittedly, their songs usually had a more bittersweet or melancholic edge to them. 

“We just have to make it work. It’s fine. Our old stuff was getting stale anyway.” Alisaie gave August a sympathetic pat on the back. 

“Well, from the look on your face, I guess you’ve prolly settled things with that boy?” 

August nodded. “Pretty much.” 

“So, when do we get to meet him?”

“Soon. Promise.”

He had brought it up to G’raha earlier, but the thought of meeting the rest of the Scions sent him through a spiral. And August didn’t want to overwhelm him.

Besides.

Part of him wanted to keep G’raha to himself for now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> August is a dark skinned half-sun, half-moon kitty with light pink hair and cotton candy eyes.   
The song for this fic is "We Could Happen" by AJ Rafael (Please listen to it. It's so fucking cheesy and adorable.)


End file.
